Meat swindle and club hoes
So, over 100 dollars later I have my innerweb back again. It was a horrid period of time, to be innerwebless. My large television in the living room had blown as well, and I was too lazy to drag the TV out of my bedroom back into the living room. So I moped for a bit and read. I actually chewed through two novels this weekend.
Anyways, the lightning not only blew out the cable modem and the router, it also blew out the network adapter in my computer. I am honestly surprised it did not blow out the entire machine. It blew out Alan's adapter as well (which was mine to begin with anyways) so we trudged over to circuit city to buy new ones. I had looked up online ahead of time the one I wanted, so quite naturally when I drive all the way over there it was nowhere to be found. I even asked some hulking floor guy with mussed up hair and an air of impenetrable boredom if there were any more in stock. He laboriously hobbled over to the shells, peered for a moment at the empty spot on the shelf where the product was supposed to be, and then turned to me and said 'Looks like there are none left'. Thanks, genius. Really earning that minimum wage.
Two stores later I decided to just shell out the forty bucks and buy a wireless USB adapter. It works quite well, as it should considering that the adapter is precisely two and a half feet away from the transmitter. Technology is amazing.
Saturday evening I got cheated out of the feast of a thousand animals. My sister and I were supposed to meet my folks down at Texas de Brazil for dinner. Since it's a nice place and we were celebrating a birthday, we dressed up all nice for the occasion. (Well, as nice as I felt like dressing up. That meant no shorts) I hitched a ride with my sister and we headed down to I-drive. We sat around waiting for my folks to show up. When they never did my sister called on the cell phone. My mom claimed she was out front waiting for them as well.
It turns out my mom had gotten the name of the place wrong. Some how out of 'Texas de brazil' she managed to translate to 'Crazy grill' which turned out to be a different Brazilian restaurant located on the other end of I-drive. So we hopped back into my sister car and I listened to her curse and seethe at tourist as we slowly inched down I-drive. I really hate I-drive. If you are a tourist and you come to Florida, don't go there. For the life of me I cannot understand why you would want to go there. Unless you come from some total backwoods cow community and are amazed by things like 'The world's largest McDonald's'.
So we get to this 'other' place. It ended up being in a little strip mall facing a cheap hotel. It was a tiny place, no bigger than any other restaurant you would expect to find in a strip mall. My mom said she had called for reservations, but I could not imagine this place requiring reservations. When she called it in she probably did not hear the giggleing in the background. A television in the corner was diligently playing 'telemundo'. All in all, it was as if you were told you were going to be taken to a fancy Italian restaurant and you end up eating at a Fazoli's.
At Texas de Brazil the salad bar was filled with items I can only call 'exotic'. Although they looked a bit strange, they were so nicely prepared and displayed that you wanted to try things. The salad bar at this place was just weird. I walked up in looked at meager pan after pan trying to find something I would want to put in my mouth, however nothing looked appetizing. For instance there was a large pan that looked to contain onions and hard boiled eggs floating in water. What? Ew. While the other place had ramrod straight young men serving the meat, this place had some fat white guy who slouched about and offered you his sword of meat like it was something he had just speared out of the dumpster and wanted to get rid of as quick as possible.
To be fair, the meat was not that bad. I certainly ate my fill. However, at Texas De they were bringing out choice cuts of meat they carefully sawed off, while this place was bringing out crap like chicken legs and rolls. My mom was a little embarrassed, but we were polite and enjoyed our dinner. On the way home my sister kept laughing about the whole ordeal. 'I got dressed up for THAT?'.
Later that night with a belly full of meat I met up with a couple of friends and headed out to 'The Peacock' room. This was the first time I had been there and I was curious about the place. My personal rating was 'OK'. We were supposed to see some band I had wanted to see for no particular reason (Just something 'to do') however by time we showed up the show was already over. So I had a couple of drinks and watched the people file in.
The place was dribbled with a few art-flake type chicks, numerous moping emo boys, silk clad homosexuals (who probably drifted in from the gay bar 'Studz' across the street) and several dozen generic people who looked like they had waltzed in from an 'Abercrombie & Fitch' catalog. Filtering in and out of these people was a single large bushy beard biker with a 'warlocks' patch on his back. I simply could not figure out how he fit into that crowd until Shallan mentioned he was probably the coke dealer. That made perfect sense and he clicked in like a missing piece of puzzle.
So, we hung out for a while until I was full of booze and Shallan and Allan were looking thoroughly bored. (Hey, I just noticed Shallan is an Alan with 'sh' in front of it. Haw haw haw) So we headed on home. We dropped Shallan off and it was around then I decided I was probably a little too woozy to drive home on the interstate. So we pulled into a Denny's parking lot so that we could switch seats.
Actually, when we tried to pull in the car in front of us stopped up short just before fully pulling in, leaving the tail end of my car sticking out in the intersection. I cursed at bitched at the guy until I saw the smoke billowing out form his hood and realized his engine was on fire. The dude finally pushed the car out of the way. Sucks to be you, pal.
While we were switching seats I saw some sport utility car pull up and four skinny club girls piled out of it. Two of them marked up to a tiny plot of grass directly behind the Denny's back wall, hiked up their miniskirts and squatted down and started peeing, right next to each other. I was horrified. I have nothing against seeing an unsolicited vagina, but not when there is PEE coming out of it. That's almost as bad as babies. Nasty club ho's. In my drunken state I screeched out 'Eeew! They are PEEING!' and Alan responded in a dry tone 'Don't be such an old maid.'.
Headed on home, did nothing worth noting the rest of the weekend.
I did have a strange dream. I'll post it later today.
Back To Archives